


Sunset

by bigblueboxat221b



Series: Mystrade Prompt Challenge Oct 2018 [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Memories, Sunsets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 18:33:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16331345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/bigblueboxat221b
Summary: For the Mystrade Prompt Challenge: Greg takes Mycroft somewhere that means a lot to him.





	Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Your dialogue:"How did you know?" and "Actually, it wasn't easy."
> 
> The circumstances...as the sun sets
> 
> You must mention...a car
> 
> And you must use the word...thread

Greg shifted, pulling his seat as far back as it would go, glancing over at Mycroft as the quiet purr of the Aston Martin died away. “Nice, right?”  
“It is,” Mycroft allowed, his gaze roaming over the view. Greg had been restlessly energetic throughout the trip, insisting they turn off the route guidance so he could give Mycroft directions. “This is where your father brought you?”  
“Yeah,” Greg sighed, picking up the thread of their earlier conversation. “He liked it up here. Liked being able to be see the whole town. Gave him perspective, he reckoned, on life and stuff.” The drive made him more melancholy than he’d anticipated, knowing his excitement had shifted into sadness as the route became more familiar and his father’s absence more pronounced.  
“And the sunset?” Mycroft asked carefully.  
Quiet settled between them for a moment as Greg watched the sky subtly change, the sun sinking a little lower, the colours shifting. “The sunset is for you,” he said finally.  
“For me?” Mycroft asked. Greg looked over, unsure of the surprise and pleasure in Mycroft’s words.  
“Of course,” Greg murmured, his hand sliding onto the familiar shape of Mycroft’s knee.  
“Sunsets are my favourite,” Mycroft said quietly. “How did you know?”  
“Actually, it wasn’t easy,” Greg replied, mouth twitching in a poorly suppressed grin. “Your third floor sitting room faces west, the background of your laptop is a sunset, and we ate every dinner on our honeymoon on our west facing private beach.” He chuckled, turning to Mycroft. “I know you, remember?”  
Mycroft hummed. “So we’re here to…”  
“Make some new memories here,” Greg admitted. “I haven’t come back since Dad passed away.”  
Mycroft considered that for a moment. “Depending on what you have in mind,” he said, covering Greg’s hand with his own, “we should probably wait until dark.”  
Greg grinned, a little of the heavy sadness lifting from him. “Indeed.”


End file.
